


Times To Remember

by aschicca



Series: Crumbs [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Assumes as canon all the events until 215 and my gapfiller Crumbs, M/M, bit of a jump between timelines, hope it's understandable, no fiddler here, post 2x15 alternate universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aschicca/pseuds/aschicca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day of Justin's 19th birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Times To Remember

**Author's Note:**

> After reading "Crumbs", the first part of this series, a dear friend didn't like the fact that the story ended on a bittersweet note since we all know what happened after the "Rage" episode. So she told me I should write a new version of Justin's birthday, one that showed how Justin's outburst in "Crumbs" could maybe affect Brian's behaviour towards his birthday. This was the result.

Pale skin bathed in blue light, Justin was lying naked on the bed in the loft smoking a cigarette and trying to decide if what he had lived that day had been real or just another wistful dream he was destined to regret the morning after. He let out a sigh and threw a glance at Brian’s naked form lying on his stomach beside him, while his mind went back to the hours of fucking that had led to Brian falling asleep almost immediately. _That_ at least had been real, the soreness of his ass was proof enough, but what about the rest of the day? Had all that really happened?

Trailing his fingers softly through Brian’s hair and following the trail of smoke his cigarette left in the air with pensive eyes, Justin allowed his mind to go back to the events of the day he had just lived: the day of his 19th birthday.

*** 

Waking up that Saturday morning wasn’t easy for either Brian or Justin. A Friday night spent drinking, dancing and fucking was bound to leave consequences even if, as Justin delighted to repeat to a scowling Brian, one had “youth on their side.” Justin had tried not to feel his ego bruised when Brian was indeed the first one to get up, take a shower and get dressed… all of this while Justin sat in bed, sheet covering just his legs, rubbing his eyes and trying to decide if he wanted to have coffee, puke or go back to sleep for the next five days.

“I’m meeting the boys at the gym in an hour,” a grinning Brian had announced. “If you ever feel like leaving the bed, there’s coffee in the kitchen.”

Waving his hand and throwing a “later” at Justin, Brian made his big exit, swinging his gym bag on his way out.

With a sigh Justin had then gotten out of bed, grimacing, and had whispered to himself “And Happy Birthday, Justin”.

*

Fifteen minutes in the shower helped somehow, so Justin dressed up and made his way to the kitchen, Brian’s promise of coffee still vivid in his mind. On the kitchen counter there were indeed both the pot full of black coffee and Justin’s mug. Okay so it hadn’t been formerly established that _that_ particular mug was Justin’s and Justin’s alone, but he was actually the one drinking from it every morning so Justin had started to think about it as his own. He had never discussed this feeling with Brian (only the thought of ‘discussing feelings’ with Brian made Justin laugh, and it wasn’t always a happy laugh) but, judging from the fact that the other man had left that particular mug beside the coffee pot, maybe, Justin thought with a smile, he didn’t need to after all.

Lost in thought, Justin didn’t realize right away that there was an envelope upheld by the mug. A letter. Puzzled and wondering if all the alcohol he had drank the previous night was now messing with his eyesight, Justin picked it up and stood there watching it like it was some kind of foreign object he had never seen before, and maybe it was. Scribbled on the bottom of that envelope in fact, was Justin’s name. Justin’s name written in _Brian’s_ handwriting. Justin was holding a letter from Brian.

*** 

Justin was shaken out of his musings by Brian’s soft “Why are you still awake? I’d have thought that last fuck would have sent you off to dreamland by now. Or maybe you need another round?” and smiled down at his lover before replying, “You’re not coming near my ass again for a while, Brian.”

“What? Poor widdle Sunshine’s ass is all sore? Wanna bet if you let me kiss it better you’ll be begging me to fuck you a minute later?” A grinning Brian got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. “We might have to test this theory when I come baaack,” he sing-songed making Justin laugh, mostly because he knew Brian was right.

Suddenly feeling thirsty, Justin threw his legs off the bed and started to get up, when his eyes caught the open letter lying on his bedside table. He picked it up, and the exact same feeling that had invaded his mind and heart that morning blossomed inside him again. A letter from Brian… who’d have thought?

*** 

Justin toyed with the letter for a long while. Some part of him kept yelling in his mind to ‘open it up! Come on, how come you’re not reading it yet?’ but he was still hesitating. With everything they had gone through lately – his fight with Brian over his piss-drenched drawing having happened only a few days before – Justin wasn’t sure what to expect. It was almost ludicrous but he was scared. Scared to read Brian’s letter.

Pissed with himself for even thinking something like that, Justin finally opened the envelope and jabbed the letter out. 

_Justin,_

_You know I don’t believe in this kind of bullshit. Celebratory bullshit, I mean. Why the fuck should one want to celebrate the day they’ve been let loose in this for shit world? Achievements, that’s all that’s worth celebrating._

_But, something tells me you might appreciate the recognition of this day and I’m feeling generous. So, be ready by 6.30 p.m. We have a reservation for that Italian place you get hard over (yes, I remember how much you like their food. Christ, you ate enough for five starving homeless the last time we were there, how could I ever forget?). Of course after dinner you’re going to need a way to burn off the calories. Maybe I could help with that._

_So be ready. Oh and there should be something delivered at the loft by lunchtime. Make sure you’re in to take the deliver, ok?_

_Later  
B._

Justin was feeling weirdly weak in the knees all of a sudden, therefore he thought it was best for him to sit on one of the stools by the counter. Through the veil drawn in front of his eyes by his “allergies” (or maybe he could just admit for once to be a silly faggot), Justin re-read the letter thinking it was the most romantic thing he had ever received… wrapped inside the most unromantic prose. It was perfect. Perfectly _Brian_.

*** 

 

Perfect, yeah. So perfect it could fuck with Justin’s allergies hours after he had read it for the first time.

“You know, maybe I should think twice before writing something to you, Sunshine; given the kind of reaction I get.” Brian’s voice was heavy with sarcasm but, looking up, Justin could see his eyes darting around the room as if to try and locate a safe place to escape Justin’s display of emotions.

“It’s just your magnificent eloquence, Brian, the elegance of your prose. They make my eyes water and make me want to… sneeze. It’s like a really bad cold, actually.” Justin replied in all seriousness looking straight into Brian’s eyes, which had fixed on him the moment he had started talking. 

“Fuck you, you little shit! I’ll have you know I’m a highly talented writer.”

Smiling, Justin asked “Does writing two-sentence ads really count as being a writer? It’s true then, you can learn something new every day.” And then he presented Brian with his ‘aren’t I cute?’ expression and his most radiant Sunshine smile, and was delighted to see the older man relax, and let out a little laugh and a muttered “Twat.” 

After closing the distance between them and sitting on the bed beside Justin, Brian kissed away the smile from Justin’s mouth and started pushing the boy down on the bed.

“…wait,” Justin murmured, tearing himself away from Brian’s mouth and the warmth of his body. “I’m thirsty. I was just going to drink some water while you were in the bathroom.”

“Before you got sidetracked by my imitation of Shakespeare you mean?” asked Brian arching his eyebrow.

“Yeah, something like that. William.” Getting quickly up to avoid Brian’s hand raised to swat his hip, Justin laughed and told Brian he was just going in the kitchen to find a bottle of water.

“Try not to take too much time. I promised your ass some ‘get well’ kisses if I recall correctly.” That said, Brian lay on his side across the bed and smirked feeling Justin’s eyes roaming his naked body.

Justin allowed himself to drink in Brian’s sexy form for a moment longer, then he made his way towards the kitchen, relieved to have Brian back in his previous flirty mood. He was getting good at recognizing a possible Kinney-crisis and stopping it before it grew out of proportion, Justin mused. He was so onto him.

While passing by the table in order to get to the fridge for his water, Justin’s eyes caught sight of the huge box placed on the floor beside it and his mind went back to what had happened right after the ‘allergies’ caused by Brian’s letter had passed.

*** 

Justin was finishing his second mug of coffee when his cell phone rang. The display read ‘Daphne’ so he flipped it open immediately and mumbled a “Hey Daph,” in it.

“Happy birthday, Justin!” Daphne’s sparkling voice yelled in his ear.

“Uh, thanks Daph, but could you tone it down a notch, please?”

“Let me guess, you and Brian partied till the wee hours yesterday. Booze, drugs, loud music and sex; a regular Friday night chez-Kinney. I wonder why I can never join you. Or watch.” Daphne said all this with his normal tone of voice, secretly amused from torturing her best friend’s ears.

“You’re a freak, Chanders. And if you’re not lowering that voice of yours I’m hanging up. What, are you taking lessons from Deb now?”

With a, fucking _loud_ , put-upon sigh that hurt Justin’s ears as much as her yells – and he was _so_ sure she knew that – Daphne replied, speaking softly this time “I was just wondering what you had planned for today. Can you stop by my apartment at some point? I want to give you my present. Or maybe I could come there and we could hang out at the cooler place. Oh wait, we could meet by the Diner and have lunch and then come back to Brian’s place and ravage his stash to celebrate! Or…”

“Daph!” Justin was sure his shout had hurt _his_ head more than Daphne’s but he had to put a stop to his friend’s babbling. “I’m not sure what I’m doing today, but we can’t meet for lunch because Brian’s expecting a delivery and he wants me to be here and take it.”

“Let me get this straight. Brian leaves you alone the day of your birthday and then doesn’t even let you leave the apartment for lunch? Is he kidding? Why didn’t you tell him he could stay home and take his own fucking delivery when he asked you to stay in?” Justin was sure Daphne’s outrage would have been funnier for him if his best friend hadn’t started yelling again.

“Actually he didn’t ask. Well, not talking. He… he wrote me a letter, Daph.”

Only silence met Justin’s statement, a silence that lasted for a long moment and, while it benefitted Justin’s pounding head, it also had him almost worried. “Daph? Are you still there?”

“He wrote you a letter? Brian wrote you a letter? Brian _Kinney_? Brian – even if I fuck you repeatedly it doesn’t mean we’re a couple – Kinney?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh my God. And what did he write? Come on, spill!” Justin could tell it was taking all of Daphne’s will not to shout all this… or maybe she was just afraid he would hang up and she wouldn’t get to know the content of Brian’s letter.

Justin read the letter to Daphne with his voice quivering a little here and there and then got silent, waiting to hear the response.

“Wow. Do you think he realized how romantic this is? Well, romantic for his standards obviously.” Daphne had always been a huge fan of Brian’s, ever since he had kissed her on the cheek the same morning she had gotten a good view of… well everything, and said “I love this girl”. Brian had owned her heart since then, and sometimes Justin thought she understood Brian better than anyone. Except him, that is. Anyway it wasn’t at all surprising for Justin that Daphne had caught the romantic gesture behind the supposedly cold writing. Had he read this letter to anyone else, Lindsay and Michael included, Justin was sure they’d be now talking to him with pity in their voices, saying “Well, at least he’s trying. You can’t really expect much more from him.” Point was, Justin _did_ expect more, and if the letter and the acknowledging of Justin’s birthday were indication enough, he was right in doing so. 

Realizing Daphne was still expecting a reply, Justin finally said, “I don’t know, Daph. I doubt it. But he’s taking me out to dinner and something tells me that famous delivery could maybe….” Justin’s voice trailed out, almost as if he was refusing to vocalize his thought for fear that saying it out loud could somehow jeopardize his chances to be on the right path.

“Right. You stay in then and let me know when you get the delivery okay? Maybe I’ll stop by the loft by then, what do you say?”

“’K Daph. See you later then.” After bidding goodbye to his best friend, Justin eyed the coffee pot and decided a third mug was definitely in order. And maybe another shower since he still had time before the delivery. After all it was only 11.30 a.m. yet.

*** 

“Are you drinking our whole stock of water, Sunshine?”

Brian’s voice shook once again Justin’s out of his thoughts and he realized he still had to make it to the fridge and drink. He threw an absent-minded “Coming,” to Brian and laughed out loud at his “Not if you don’t come back to bed,” reply.

After the cold water had finally refreshed his throat, Justin made his way towards the table and took a peek inside the box placed there. He smiled, crouching and picking up one of the items the box contained, remembering his delight when he had first opened his freshly delivered birthday present. Well the first one at least.

*** 

‘This has to be the only delivery boy who’s perfectly on time in all of Pittsburgh’, thought Justin, his hair still wet after the longest shower in the history of showers (but he was finally feeling better), running to open the door.

The man behind it had a freaking huge box at his feet and was looking straight at Justin with an appreciative look on his face. ‘Great, on time and gay. A pity he’s not good looking too,’ Justin mused.

“Justin Taylor?”

“It’s me.”

“This is for you then. If you could please sign here…”

Justin signed and the other man hauled the box inside the loft. 

It was only when ‘on time-and-gay’ delivery guy had gone away, that Justin realized he had asked for him. Not Brian. Him. The delivery was definitely for him, Justin thought thrilled.

After trying unsuccessfully to pick the box up, Justin gave up and just pushed it through the loft until it was between the kitchen counter and the table. He then knelt beside it, the hesitation that had pervaded him when he had to open the letter’s envelope completely absent now, and tore it open.

Inside the box there was every imaginable art supply Justin could think of, and even something he hadn’t even dare to imagine. Canvases, brushes of every kind, paint, every sort of tool he might need to carve, sculpt or paint… and a complete collection of every single graphic program available for his computer. And placed above all, a note.

Not knowing if he felt more like crying or running to the first open window and shout his joy and his love for Brian to the world, Justin decided to just read the note.

_“Nobody appreciates your art more than me”_

That line was everything that was written on the note, aside from the little ‘B.’ of Brian’s sign, and yet it was everything that Justin could wish for. It told him that Brian understood what he had tried to tell him when he ‘queened out’ over his drawing of Rage and what Brian had done to it. It told him Brian realized that his apologies hadn’t been enough and that he needed to show his contrition in a stronger way. 

It told Justin that Brian _did_ care. And with that Justin let his tears free to run.

*** 

Justin sniffed, holding the brush in his hand close to his chest, and was startled to hear Brian’s voice so close to him. “I can’t believe you’d rather play with _that_ present instead of coming to bed and enjoying the second one. What am I doing wrong?”

Chuckling at Brian’s fake expression of deep pain, Justin placed the brush back in the box and went to hug Brian close and place a kiss on his naked chest. “I already unwrapped and enjoyed the second present three times tonight, Brian. I thought I already showed my appreciation.”

Brian took Justin’s hand and placed it on his cock. “Yes but, you see, it’s the kind of present you need to ‘appreciate’ frequently and for longer periods of time. It needs lots of ‘appreciation’.”

Justin laughed again and thought that had to be the hundredth time he laughed in the whole day; he doubt he’d ever laughed so much in a _month_ lately. Justin decided to show Brian’s cock his ‘appreciation’ with another blowjob, but his stomach chose that moment to let out a loud rumble.

“Christ, Justin. One would think with all you ate at dinner, that endless pit of yours would be full by now.”

“Yeah, well ‘one’ doesn’t know me at all then. I’m a growing boy.”

“If you promise to let something else grow soon, I’ll let you eat something now.” Brian grinned.

Winking, Justin turned around and made his way to the kitchen counter again, swinging his hips and shaking his ass in Brian’s face. 

“You better stop that if you really want to eat, Sunshine,” was Brian’s predictable response.

Justin fished in the cupboard and found a box of Cheerios. Crunching the cereal, he thought that Brian was right about one thing. He really had eaten a lot at dinner. But after all it was Brian’s fault if he had skipped lunch.

*** 

Justin’s afternoon was spent checking out every item in the box. He would pick them up one at a time, look at them like they were the most precious thing in the whole world, and then carefully place them in the box again. He was so intent on examining his present that at first he didn’t hear the loft’s phone ringing, and when he did he thought not to reply.

But he was constitutionally incapable of ignoring a ringing phone, therefore, sighing, he got up, took the phone and answered without checking the display. 

“Hello?”

“What’s with the distracted voice, Justin?”

Brian! That was the single thought in Justin’s mind and for a moment he couldn’t think of any other way to reply, so he just went with the flow and yelled “Brian!” in the phone too. 

“Justin!” came the amused reply. “To what do I owe this enthusiastic reception?”

“Asshole. You know perfectly well what you did! I got your present and I was just now going through it. Brian, thank you, it’s…” Justin’s explosion of joy was abruptly interrupted by Brian’s voice.

“Yeah, yeah, good, you got it. Now, do you by any chance happen to have found some kind of note about a restaurant and a dinner too?”

“Your letter!” an excited Justin replied. “Of course I found it. Brian it was such a…” Yet again he was interrupted.

“Fine, it’s settled then. I have some clothes at Mikey’s and I’m heading there right away to shower and change. Can you be ready by six? I don’t want to be late. And make sure you wear the suit _I_ chose for you, it should be hanging in the closet.”

“Okay, Brian. But can I…” Justin was starting to think he’d never be allowed to finish a sentence ever again when, for the third time, his speech was halted by Brian’s quick “Right. Gotta go. Later.”

Justin stood there staring at the phone for a while. Brian had just hung up on him. Making a mental note of bitching for that later, Justin made his way to the third shower of the day. Despite his pretend anger, his smile could have lit a Christmas tree.

*

5.59 p.m. and Justin heard the loft’s door sliding open. He smiled to himself in the bathroom’s mirror and went to meet Brian. Wearing his black suit and his red shirt, Brian was a walking wet dream and Justin couldn’t help but stare at him licking his lips.

“Dessert later, Sunshine. We still have to eat dinner. Even if you look good enough to eat so maybe _you_ could be dinner,” Brian’s voice was low and sensual, and Justin thought maybe Italian cooking was overrated. By the way his stomach protested though, maybe it wasn’t.

“No way, Brian. You promised me Italian and I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

*** 

“… you’re always starving,” Brian was saying.

“What?”

Sighing, Brian repeated, “You ate lasagna, chicken parmesan and three slices of tiramisu. You even convinced that waiter, Giovanni, to send the leftovers home with you. And now you’re reducing your cereal to crumbs. Seriously, you’re always starving. And you should pay attention when someone’s talking.” The last sentence let Justin know that Brian was losing his patience.

Mentally hitting himself upside the head for not remembering the leftovers just a moment before when he was looking for something to eat (Giovanni had even winked at him and told him he had added a couple of pieces of tiramisu to the package), Justin decided memory lane was over for that night. He had indeed lived the perfect day, had the perfect birthday and he could either keep musing over everything that had happened or enjoy his most important present once more. Before sleeping the entire Sunday away. 

Abandoning his box of cereal, Justin made his way towards Brian again, licking his fingers one by one to catch every tiny crumb on them… and to make Brian’s cock impossibly hard in the process. “Do you think I’ve been a bad boy ignoring you, Mr. Kinney? Should I be punished for that? You still owe me a birthday spanking after all,” Justin flirted.

“Your birthday has been over since a couple of hours already, and that ass is booked for some other activity I seem to remember. Anyway who said I can’t eat it while I’m spanking it?”

This time _Justin’s_ cock grew so hard it almost hurt and he thought Brian could make him come just by _telling_ him what he had in mind to do to his body. With a smirk, Brian led Justin to their bed by his cock and made the boy lie face down on it, his legs spread open and his ass propped up. Displayed, open, on offer. _Brian’s_. Fucking finally.

“Fuck!”

“That’s the plan Sunshine, but first I’m going to eat that delicious ass of yours.”

“No! I mean, yes! But I just remembered something…” Justin was peeking at Brian from behind his shoulder. “I saw Mel and Linds yesterday afternoon and they gave me a ticket for a violin concert. We were going to attend it today, the three of us together, to celebrate my birthday. I totally forgot.” Justin sounded upset.

“Violin music? Sounds like someone torturing a cat to me. I’m sure you didn’t miss much and the munchers will forgive you. Just flash that smile at them and tell them you had better things to do,” while saying all this, Brian had knelt between Justin’s open legs and had his hands on those plump cheeks.

“But they said there’s this new violinist at school and he’s really worth listening. I just got distracted by _you_ and forgot.”

“Good, blame me then. And now shut the fuck up and let me distract you some more,” and with that Brian’s tongue started to work its magic on Justin’s ass.

‘Yeah,’ Justin thought to himself. ‘Fuck violin music. Fuck the violinist. Wait until I tell Daphne about…’

“Double Fuck!” Justin yelled out loud.

“I could fuck you a third time too if you would just stop interrupting me.” Brian wasn’t happy.

“No, it’s just… I forgot to call Daphne. You see, she called me on the phone this morning and I promised her I was going to call her back to tell her when we could meet and then your box arrived and I ……aaaaahhhh.”

Brian’s cock up his ass always had the power to shut Justin’s mouth for anything that wasn’t moaning or begging. But, Justin thought, he still was holding Brian to his promise to eat _and_ spank his ass later. Long night ahead…. Could life be any better?


End file.
